Deluge
by CSIJaina
Summary: deluge: an overwhelming amount or number Webster’s New Collegiate Dictionary . Calleigh’s had a bad year, and it’s only getting worse. Post Under the Influence.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: **CSI: Miami is owned by Alliance Atlantis, Bruckheimer Productions, CBS, and probably many others that I'm unaware of. None of these include me. I don't even really own the title, as I borrowed it from a MASH episode, but with every intention of bringing it back. MASH is owned by Twentieth Century Fox.

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**Chapter One**

Calleigh Duquesne was crouched down next to a fence in a back garden, trying to fish a stubborn bullet out of the wood. Mumbling mild profanities to herself she shifted positions, trying to get a better grip on the bullet without damaging any striations that may have remained.

"Not having much luck, are you?"

Calleigh jumped, her hand automatically going to the gun strapped to her side as she turned to see that Eric had snuck up behind her. She had been so focused on the bullet that she hadn't even noticed his approach.

"Didn't your mother ever teach you that it's rude to sneak up on people? Especially when they're armed?"

"Didn't yours teach you that it's rude to ignore people?"

Calleigh gave Eric a strange look.

"I called you a couple of times but you didn't answer, so I came over to see how you were doing. You know, I'd have called your cell phone, but…"

"Am I ever going to be able to live that down? So I dropped my cell phone down a toilet; it can happen. Besides, I'm going to pick up my new one tomorrow. Maybe the teasing will stop then?" She had been planning on getting a new cell phone anyways, so it wasn't that big of a deal. The incident probably would have even gone completely unnoticed except for the fact that Eric and Ryan had been there to witness the embarrassment as she came out of the bathroom that morning, _sans_ cell phone. The teasing hadn't stopped since.

"Oh, I don't know, I think I might need a better incentive than that," Eric replied.

"Alright, if I buy you dinner will that shut you up?" Calleigh retorted.

"Only if I get to pick the place."

"Done."

"Good. So, what've you got?"

"One very stuck bullet that does not want to come out." By now Calleigh had resumed her attempts at removing the problem projectile. Finally, with one last twist, the bullet came free from its lodging place.

Calleigh turned with a triumphant look to Eric, who was smirking as he held out a bindle.

"Calleigh one, bullet zero," quipped Eric as he tore off a strip of evidence tape for the freshly sealed bullet, then added the bindle to the firearms evidence which now consisted of three bullets with three casings.

Meanwhile, Calleigh had stood up and was scanning the backyard. "Okay, so what do we have so far?" she asked.

"It appears that our victim, Nolan Waters, was hosting a backyard barbeque for some of his buddies. His wife, Anne, had gone out to spend the day shopping, leaving Nolan alone for some male bonding time. When she got back at 4:00 PM, she found Nolan in the backyard, shot to death, with none of the other party guests remaining. The bullet casings were found just outside the back fence, and the bullets were in the same general area in the yard, so we've already got a pretty good estimate on shooting location and trajectory. Horatio's out front with Tripp talking to the wife and any other possible witnesses, and I think he sent Wolfe out to do a perimeter to see if the perp left anything behind in the back alley, other than the casings," Eric summarised.

"Alright, well, if you don't need me here, I was going to head back to the lab and get started on these bullets. Maybe we'll get lucky and get an IBIS hit, narrow down the suspect pool a bit," Calleigh said, crouching down to collect the evidence she had pulled from the fence.

"Sounds good. I'll send Wolfe to the lab with the rest of the evidence when he gets back. I was going to stay, figured H could use some help with the witnesses out front."

As Calleigh was gathering up the rest of the firearms evidence she had collected, Horatio appeared at the gate.

"Uh, Calleigh. Can I talk to you for a second please?"

"Sure, handsome. I was just going to get this evidence back to the lab and get started on it. What do you need?"

"Well, actually, if you could just leave the evidence for Eric and Wolfe that would be good."

As Calleigh put the bags down, she began to get a sinking feeling in her stomach. Horatio had that concerned look on his face which never boded well for the recipient. She followed him around to the side of the house, waiting to see what he had to say.

"Calleigh, I just got a call from the hospital. It seems that your Dad was admitted after a car crash he was involved in."

Calleigh just stared at Horatio for a couple of seconds, trying to absorb what he had just told her.

"Calleigh? Are you alright?"

Horatio's voice broke her reverie.

"Uh, yeah. I'm fine. Um, do you need me, because I should really..."

"Go. The lab will be fine without you, take as long as you need. I just want to be sure that you're okay. Do you want someone to drive you?"

"No, that's fine. Thank you though, I'll see you later."

With that Calleigh left, heading for one of the department Hummer's as fast as she could walk. The only thing she had on her mind was getting to the hospital as fast as possible.

However, once she got behind the wheel, she found that she couldn't bring herself to start the engine. She rested her head on the steering wheel, tears stinging her eyes, thinking about her father. She had just returned his keys two weeks ago. Six months had passed since the incident at the construction site, and he had been doing so well since then. He was going to AA meetings regularly, and he hadn't even set foot in a bar after that day. She felt bad for doing it but she'd even checked this time. What had happened? She just hoped he hadn't hurt someone else as well.

It took only a second for these thoughts to whirl through her head, and only one second more to realize what she was doing. She didn't even know what had happened, yet she was immediately leaping to the assumption that he was drinking. Most people would have been worried about their family member and speeding off to the hospital but here she was, already blaming her father for the accident and wondering how many drinks he'd had.

With a sigh she raised her head from the steering wheel and put the key in the ignition. Clenching her teeth she started the car, silently praying to anyone that was listening that her Dad would be alright.


	2. Chapter 2

Here's chapter two, thanks to calleighsthebest, CsI-aDdIcTeD, Nora-1973, Le Pecore Nere, and Indygo-Blues for the reviews, they made my week!

**Chapter Two**

Calleigh made it to the hospital in record time, parking the Hummer haphazardly in her rush to get inside. Shortly after showing the admitting nurse her identification, her heart sunk as she was led into the ICU. When she stepped into the room, her attention was immediately drawn to the large number of machines that were constantly beeping and pinging, keeping her father alive. The sound of the ventilator drew her attention to the bed where her father lay; an oxygen mask covering his lower face, and numerous lacerations covering the rest.

"Miss Duquesne?"

Calleigh was staring so intently at her father that she hadn't even noticed the presence of the doctor amidst all of the machines. "Uh, yeah, that's me," she replied.

"My name's Doctor Bernard, but you can call me Katrina. I'm the doctor assigned to your father's case. I'm sorry that we couldn't reach you sooner. We tried calling the number listed in your father's contact information but it was unreachable. I hope it was alright that we called Lieutenant Caine."

"Yes, that was fine, thank you." Calleigh cut right to the chase. "How, how is my father? Is he going to be alright?"

"We have him stabilized for now. He suffered a severe blow to the head, probably from the windshield. It appears that he wasn't wearing a seatbelt at the time of the accident."

"When is he going to wake up?" Calleigh asked tentatively.

Dr. Bernard sighed. "I'm afraid I don't have the answer to that question. As I said, he suffered a severe head trauma. While there's no sign of haemorrhage or permanent damage on the CAT scan, the technology's not perfect and there's always the chance that we missed something. All we can do right now is keep him stable, and hope that he wakes up on his own. If there is no change in the next three days, we'll run some more tests."

Calleigh silently took the information in. She still couldn't believe that this was happening.

"Was anyone else involved in the accident?" she asked, praying that at least this one thing would be on her side.

"No, it looked like he missed a corner, and his car collided with a tree. No one else was injured."

Calleigh let out a relieved breath. At least no one else had been hurt. Or worse. However, there was one more question she needed to ask, even though she may not like the answer. "Did you run a blood alcohol test?" she questioned, in a quiet voice.

"Yes, we did." Dr. Bernard said simply. "Does your father have a drinking problem?"

"Had. He had a drinking problem." It was stupid, but Calleigh felt the need to make sure that was clear. "He has been sober for six months." The words tasted sour in Calleigh's mouth. From the doctor's response she already knew the answer to her question.

"I'm very sorry to tell you this, but your father's BAC level was 0.27 when we brought him in. Do you know of anything that could have triggered this binge?" Dr. Bernard asked, not unkindly.

"No," Calleigh replied. "I can't think of anything." She finally allowed herself to sink into the chair by her father's bed, as all her grief and frustration that she had been trying to stamp down came to the surface. Seeing that she needed some time, Dr. Bernard excused herself from the room, leaving Calleigh alone with her father.

Calleigh carefully picked up her father's hand, feeling the rough skin under her own smooth hand. She closed her eyes and finally let her tears begin to fall, hating the feeling as they slid down her cheeks, but thankful at least that no one was there to witness her breakdown.

Twenty minutes later Calleigh had gotten her emotions back under control, and was just sitting quietly, holding her father's hand when she heard the door open. She turned her head to see Eric standing in the doorway.

"Eric," she whispered, standing up to meet him.

"Calleigh, are you alright?" Eric asked.

She just nodded, not willing to trust her voice at the moment.

"Horatio told us what happened; I came over as soon as I dropped off the evidence. Are you sure that you're okay? Do you need anything?"

Calleigh shook her head, the sight of Eric bringing up the rest of her buried emotions.

"How's your Dad doing?" Eric asked.

"He's in a coma." Calleigh was surprised at how raspy her voice sounded. Clearing her throat she continued. "The doctor's not sure when, or if, he's going to…" her voice trailed off, her calm façade beginning to waver.

"Oh, Cal, I'm so sorry. C'mere," Eric said, opening his arms for her.

She fell into him, quiet sobs now wracking her body.

They stayed like that for a few minutes, until Calleigh was under control again. She pulled back from Eric, wiping her eyes quickly, glad that she'd only put the bare minimum of makeup on that morning.

"Thank you, Eric."

"For what?" he asked, confused.

"For being here. It really means a lot to me."

"Oh Calleigh, there's nowhere else I'd rather be." Eric paused for a second, realizing how that sounded. "I didn't mean that… What I meant is-"

"Eric, I understand," and with that she hugged him again, letting herself relax into his arms.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: **I apologize for the lateness of this, I really do. University got in the way, but I'm trying to stay a couple of chapters ahead, and should hopefully get back on track this week. Thanks for you patience! Oh, and I still don't own anything, in case anyone forgot.

**Chapter Three**

A couple of days had passed, and Calleigh was back at work. Everyone had given her the pity glance from the corner of their eyes when she'd shown up yesterday morning, but most were smart enough not to comment.

Unfortunately that didn't extend to her team. Horatio had cornered her in the morning in the locker room to ask how she was. She'd favoured him with a small smile, and replied that she wasn't doing any good sitting at the hospital, or her house, moping. After being reassured that she would tell him if she needed anything, he'd left her to get ready. Not five seconds after he had left Ryan had come in.

"Hey, Calleigh, I'm really sorry to hear about your Dad, how's he doing?"

"Still in a coma. The hospital's running more tests today."

"That's rough, Cal. If you need anything, if there's anything I can do…"

"Thanks Ryan, I appreciate it." Calleigh let out a breath as Ryan accepted that and headed off to the lab. She had learned to get along with Ryan these last months, heck, she kind of even liked the guy, but she didn't really feel comfortable sharing her feelings with him yet. Especially with the case that brought him to their team at the forefront of her mind. With all of these thoughts tumbling around in her head, she finally managed to get her stuff put away and escape into firearms, or her lab, as she liked to think of it. Glancing at the report sitting on her desk from the Waters case, she picked it up, ready to lose herself in her work. The reprieve was short-lived though, as Eric opened the door to her lab and let himself in.

"Calleigh, what are you doing here? Has your Dad woken up yet? How's he doing? How are you doing?" Eric was concerned. Of the whole team he had spent the most time with Calleigh these past days, sitting with her at the hospital after work, making sure she ate, and that she took some time for herself.

"I'm fine, Eric, thank you. No, he hasn't woken up yet, but believe me, you'll be the first to know." Calleigh favoured him with a small smile. "I was kind of hoping to get back to the case, actually. Take a break from all this."

"Of course. I can give you the rundown of what we've gotten these past couple of days. First off, no hits on IBIS for the bullet, so we ran weapons licenses for all the people that were at the barbeque. Got three hits. Two of them checked out, one gun having definitely not been fired anytime in what looks like the last decade, let alone the last week, and the other was a revolver, definitely not the source of the bullets and casings we found. The firearms tech from nights took a look at the bullets; according to the lands and grooves they came from a .38, likely a semiautomatic as we found three bullets with no signs of flight or defense from the vic. As you already know two of the shots were through and through, one nonlethal through his shoulder, and the second severing his aorta, which Alexx ruled as COD. The third missed him, which was why it was stuck in that fence so deeply."

"Wow, that's lots to go on. So what's the scoop on this third party-goer?"

"Don't miss a thing, do you?"

Calleigh just smiled up at Eric, her eyes telling him to get on with the evidence.

"Okay, so he's a little more interesting. Has a registered .38 Special, in fact. His name's Walter O'Keefe, and he has been conspicuous only in his absence the last three days. His office says he called in to use some of his vacation days, with no indication of when he'd return."

"So, he's definitely shaping up to be our prime suspect, huh?"

"He's acting that way at least. Tripp put out an APB on his car, state wide, and he's working on a warrant for his house. If nothing turns up he'll widen the APB to the surrounding states. However, from talking to the other party guests something tells me the only prize this guy will be winning is for stupidity, so I'm sure he'll turn up sooner rather than later."

"Okay, so what are you guys up to right now?"

"Ryan's working on some trace fabric he found in the alley - though with nothing to compare it too, he probably won't get very far - and Horatio, Tripp, and I are on our last day of statements from the partygoers. We still need to talk to the wife; she was pretty shaken up, but she should be better today. Actually, I should probably head over there right now, but I'd heard you were in, and wanted to make sure you were okay."

"Thank you, Eric," Calleigh said, the feeling behind her words evident.

"For what? It's nothing, you'd do the same for me." He flashed her one of those Eric smiles.

"No, really. The last couple of days have meant a lot to me, and I haven't thanked you for that. I've really appreciated your company and help."

"Anything for you, Calleigh. By the way, have you gotten a hold of your mother yet?"

"No." Calleigh's forehead creased into a frown. She'd gotten a new cellphone the day her father had gone into the hospital, realizing the perils of being without. She'd been calling her mom ever since, wanting to let her know about dad, but all she'd ever gotten was a tinny machine voice encouraging her to leave a message. Which she'd done. Five times. "I'm sure she's just on vacation or something. She'll call me back soon."

Eric gave her a look.

"It's fine. Don't worry about it."

Her new cellphone chose that moment to make its presence known.

She glanced at the caller ID, then back up at Eric.

"Well?" he asked. "Are you going to answer it?"

"It's the hospital," Calleigh replied. She tentatively flipped it open, mentally preparing herself for bad news, glad for Eric's presence. "Calleigh Duquesne," she answered.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: **I apologize that this is later than I said, and also that it's so short. The next chapter will hopefully make up for it though. Also, again special thank you's to ladyd10, calleighsthebest, TwistedSister03, Marija Magdalena, Adorelo, Le Pecore Nere, and Indygo-Blues. Your reviews are awesome and completely make my day!

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**Chapter Four**

Eric had gotten a sinking feeling the moment Calleigh picked up the phone. She had been through so much recently, he wasn't sure that she could handle any more bad news. Speedle's death had affected everyone, but it seemed to have hit Calleigh especially hard. Her dad's near-miss with the drunk driving incident coming so shortly after definitely didn't help. Add to that Hagen having committed suicide in her lab right in front of her, and it was a wonder that she hadn't completely shut down. He didn't know how she was handling this so well now. Hearing the click that signalled Calleigh had closed her cell phone, he looked towards her, praying for good news.

"It's my father. He's awake." The news was taking a while to sink in, but slowly Calleigh felt a smile creeping onto her face. She looked up at Eric, just in time to get swept into a hug.

"Calleigh, that's wonderful. I'm so happy for you," said Eric, relieved that at least something was turning out in Calleigh's favour. "Did the doctor say how he was doing?"

"They're optimistic. He's a little fuzzy right now, and not making much sense, but that's to be expected. The doctor says not to worry, and that I should come down to the hospital so I can visit with him. Dr. Bernard thinks that maybe seeing me will help him. Ooh, I should pick him up some flowers, and maybe a teddy bear, he's always had a soft spot for stuffed animals; maybe a dog, he likes dogs. Or I could –" Calleigh's relief was going to her head, and before she realized it she found herself babbling like an idiot, only to be cut off by Eric hugging her yet again. "Careful there, hotshot. People might start getting ideas," she teased him.

"I wouldn't –" Eric's reply got cut off as Horatio came into the room.

Horatio took one look at the two of them, and gave them a sly grin. "Not interrupting anything I hope?" asked Horatio, causing Calleigh to go beet red and turn away, pretending to shuffle papers on her desk.

"Not at all, H," Eric replied with a grin of his own. "Calleigh was just sharing some news. Her father woke up this morning."

"Calleigh, that's very good news. I take it that you're off to go visit him?" Horatio asked.

"I was hoping to, but you've been so good letting me take all this time, if you need me here, that wouldn't be a –"

"Nonsense, Calleigh. You've had a tough week, and with all your hard work for so many years the least we could do for you is let you take some time when you really need it. Besides, the only thing that's really pressing is the backyard barbeque murder, and I think that Ryan and Eric have that well in hand. Am I right?"

"Absolutely, H. No problem. Call me once you've had a chance to talk to him, Calleigh?" Eric requested.

"Definitely. Thank you, Eric," said Calleigh, meaning every word.

Eric smiled at her and headed out, leaving Calleigh with Horatio.

"You too, Horatio, thank you so much. I don't know if I could do this without you guys."

"No worries, ma'am. You just head out and be with your father; take as much time as you need, you certainly deserve it. And you know, if you needed some support, I could probably even spare Eric for the afternoon," Horatio added with a small smile, as he turned and followed Eric, leaving Calleigh standing in her lab, slightly stunned. She quickly got over it though, and pausing just long enough to make sure she wasn't leaving evidence out, she hurried out of the lab.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: **Wow, an update on time. This is impressive : ). As a little warning, I might have taken some liberties with Calleigh's family and family life, please just ignore any inconsistencies you may notice with the show for the sake of the story. And once again, thanks muchly for the reviews, you guys rock!

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**Chapter Five**

Calleigh quietly pushed open the door to her father's room. She gave a quick glance around, and was relieved to see that some of the machines had been removed since her last visit. Making her way over to the bed, she saw that her father had his eyes closed. Not wanting to wake him, she carefully slid her hand into his, content to wait as long as she had to.

She didn't have to wait long, as her father almost immediately opened his eyes.

"Hi, Dad, how're you feeling?" Calleigh asked, her eyes shiny with tears of relief.

"Lambchop, is that you?" Kenwall asked, his eyes not quite focusing on Calleigh.

"Yeah, Daddy, it's me."

"Shouldn't you be at work sweetie? You didn't leave just to come and visit your old man now, did you?"

"Yeah, Dad, I've been worried about you. Now don't you go scaring me like that again, it's not a nice feeling," said Calleigh, smiling through the tears and glad that her dad seemed to be back to his old self.

"I don't plan on it. I don't even really remember what happened; they told me I crashed my car?" He phrased this more as a question.

"Yeah, you did. Um, they also said that you'd been drinking, Daddy. Now, I'm not mad, just a little disappointed. You'd been doing so well, what went wrong?" '_A little disappointed_' was going to win the understatement award of the year. Calleigh had been just as devastated at the fact that her father had been drinking again as she had about the accident.

"Drinking? No, I haven't touched a drink in six months, why would I do that? You have to be mistaken, it was just an accident…" Kenwall looked over to see his daughter slowly shaking her head, looking about as upset as he'd ever seen her. He certainly didn't remember drinking, but quite frankly, the last thing he remembered from before the accident was a phone call, so could it be possible… "Are you sure?"

"Yeah, just, why Daddy? You've done so well. Why now?"

"Sweetie, I don't know, I don't remember why, I don't even remember drinking. But, whatever the reason I know it's not going to happen again." Kenwall could still see the disappointment in Calleigh's eyes, but he couldn't help her. He couldn't remember drinking; he couldn't remember anything after the phone call. He could barely even remember that, something about Louisiana maybe?

"Okay, Dad. I'm sure it was just a one-time thing." Calleigh sunk into the chair feeling completely drained. Her relief was slowly ebbing away into sadness. She'd been down this road, done this dance before. Hell, she knew the music off by heart. But right now if this was the dance her Dad wanted to perform, she'd let him.

"I'm sorry, lambchop. I just wish I could remember. The last thing I can think of was a phone call, from Louisiana I think. Must have been your mother. You haven't heard from her have you? She isn't here?" He shouldn't have felt the dread that he did from that statement, but he felt awful enough without being reminded of his old life which he had single-handedly screwed up.

"No, she isn't here. I've been calling but no one's ever answered. I figured she was just gone, or something, would get back to me when she came back."

That sentence triggered something in Kenwall. 'Gone'. Why did that word seem important, why was that jumping out at him? Oh well, the doctor said this might happen. If it was important, he was sure it would come to him. What mattered right now was his daughter.

"I'm sorry, lambchop, I really am. I never meant for this to happen, for you to have to go through this. I'm going to make this up to you, I really am."

"I know, Dad, it's okay. I'm just glad that you're going to be alright." Well, at least the last part was true. She was very relieved that her father was going to be alright. She wasn't sure she could handle another disaster at this point in time.

After the short exchange Kenwall and Calleigh lapsed into silence, each lost in their own thoughts. For Calleigh, it was wondering about what she could do for her father. He had always forgone formal inpatient rehab in the past, but maybe now he would go. Or maybe she wouldn't give him a choice.

Kenwall, on the other hand, was trying to remember the phone call that was on the edge of his mind. He was fairly certain it had been from Louisiana, from his ex-wife? Gone. Maybe she was on vacation? Gone. Maybe she had moved? Gone. What was it about that word? The realization hit him like a ton of bricks.

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Eric had been staring at paperwork for the past thirty minutes, and was wishing that he was done. They'd finished interviewing everyone, and had run all the other evidence, so now all they were waiting for was a call from Tripp to say that he'd found the wayward partygoer. Everyone else had pretty much checked out, no smoking guns there. The wife had an insurance policy on her husband, but he'd also had one on her, so that wasn't a big surprise. It was something they'd apparently agreed to together on their honeymoon, which had been five years ago. Anne Waters had also seemed upset, and genuinely so. If Eric were to hazard a guess, his bet would be some unpaid debt owed to O'Keefe. From what he could gather, O'Keefe was big-time into gambling. He probably figured if he threatened Waters, he could get his money. When that didn't work, he got mad.

However, all this was conjecture until they found O'Keefe, so Eric figured he might as well get through some of his paperwork that he'd been putting off. Just as he flipped over to another page his phone rang. Glad for the break he answered quickly, without even glancing to see who was calling.

"Delko. What, wait, Calleigh, is that you?" He glanced at his screen to confirm, and sure enough, it was Calleigh. "Are you alright? What's wrong? Is it your Dad?" All he could hear from the other end was muffled sobs and gasping. What was wrong with Calleigh? "Calleigh, where are you? Calleigh?"

"Hospital," was the muffled reply, followed by a very quiet, "Eric, I need you."

"Hold on. Stay there, I'm coming to get you, okay? Just don't move, I'll be there in fifteen minutes." After pausing a second to try and figure out if Calleigh had even heard him, he grabbed his stuff and bolted out of the lab, heading for his car. He'd only gotten half-way down the hall when he ran straight into Horatio.

"Eric, where's the fire? Did you get a…" Horatio's voice trailed off as he caught a look at Eric's face. "Is it Calleigh's father?"

"I don't know, H. I just got a phone call from her, she couldn't even get two words out she was so upset. I'm pretty much finished everything here so I was going to go and find her, if that's okay?"

"Go, Eric. Give me a call if you guys need anything. And let me know," said Horatio.

"Absolutely, thanks H," said Eric as he flew out the door.

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Unknowingly, Eric broke Calleigh's original record to the hospital that she had made just three days ago, and was out of the car and on his way to Duke's room before the engine had even come to a complete stop. He found her sitting outside of her Dad's room, with her head in her hands.

He slid quietly into the chair next to her, and gently pulled her over so that her head and back were resting against him. He started stroking her hair as she looked up into his eyes.

"Eric," she whispered.

"I'm here Cal. Is your Dad, okay?"

He felt her nodding against him, but she didn't say anything. After giving her a moment to collect herself, he asked, "What's wrong, sweetie?" The term of endearment slipped out without him even thinking about it.

Calleigh half-turned sideways, still keeping herself in his embrace. Eric caught sight of her red-rimmed eyes and his heart nearly broke. The news had to be bad.

"My Mom died four days ago." With that, Calleigh sunk back into her original position, eyes closed, just letting Eric hold her.


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: Okay, so I'm a horrible, horrible person. RL just got the better of me, I guess. Anyways, sorry about the wait, but the chapter is finally here. This should be the second last chapter (I hope) but then it was going to be the last chapter so really, who knows? I still don't own anything to do with CSI: Miami. And once again, thank you for all the reviews!­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­

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**Chapter Six**

"Okay, O'Keefe, so let me get this straight. Last week, you just up and decided that you needed to go on a road trip, giving no return date to your office, and not telling a single one of your friends that you were leaving. Oh, and you also didn't feel the need to pack any of your stuff. Is that right?" asked Eric. Frank had just brought in O'Keefe, and Eric could already tell that this interrogation was going to be awfully short. This guy was quite the change from the usual self-assured, arrogant bastards that they so often dealt with.

"Yeah, yeah, that's right. I, uh, really needed to get away for awhile. You know, get back to nature and all that," replied O'Keefe, who was sweating bullets, despite the unseasonable rain that was pounding down outside. The usually bright windows in the interrogation room were showing nothing but grey today.

Eric looked at Calleigh, to see what she made of this guy. Despite everything that had happened in the past week, Calleigh looked as calm and collected as ever, her even stare sizing up Walter O'Keefe.

"Well, Mr. O'Keefe," started Calleigh, "What I'm interested in is discovering how your gun managed to shoot Nolan Waters, when you claim to have been out of town. You did hear about him, didn't you?"

"What? Nolan?" O'Keefe's eyes widened with surprise so fake that Eric was tempted to roll his eyes. "Wait, my gun… How the hell can you know that my gun was the one that killed…" O'Keefe clammed up, probably realizing that he had just said too much.

"So you confirm that it was, in fact, your gun that killed him?" questioned Calleigh.

O'Keefe just gave her a mute stare, seemingly determined not to say anything else that might incriminate him. He had waived his right to a lawyer for God knows what reason, because by the looks of it he sure could have used the help.

"Okay, let me explain something to you. Do you know what ballistics is?" Calleigh asked, though she really doubted that this guy had ever even heard the word before. He mutely shook his head. "Okay, well, quick lesson. Loosely speaking, ballistics involves the study of firearms and their projectiles. We studied the bullets fired at the party; the general markings on them were a match to your gun's make and model. Then, while you enjoyed Detective Tripp's lovely hospitality for an hour or so, I test-fired your gun. Turns out that the marks on that bullet were an exact match to the marks on the bullets found in Nolan Waters. The external portion of a fired bullet is like a fingerprint, unique to the gun that fired it."

O'Keefe just gaped at her, seemingly surprised that all of this information could come from a small projectile. He quickly sagged under Calleigh's and Eric's stares.

"Wow, okay, yeah, I guess I did shoot him. But you don't understand, you've never met the guy. He's not a nice guy."

"That may well be true, Mr. O'Keefe, but you can't go around shooting everyone that isn't nice," Tripp said, externalizing Eric's inwards eye roll.

"No! You really don't get it!" shouted O'Keefe, his voice quickly rising. "Bet no one ever told you what he did after work, huh? Did you talk to his wife? She seem like a nice, well adjusted individual, who dearly missed her husband? Well, let me tell you something. Nolan Waters was a wife-abusing, mean, unrelenting drunk! Sure, he put on a nice face while he was out in public, and he'd be damned sure that his wife did the same, but behind closed doors… Well, that was a different story all-together."

Eric felt Calleigh stiffen almost imperceptibly beside him at the mention of the word 'drunk', but a quick glance showed no change to her outward demeanour. He paused, but ploughed ahead anyways. "And how do you know this, O'Keefe? From what we gathered, you were friends with Nolan, but no one mentioned that you ever had anything to do with his wife."

"Well, until a couple of months ago I didn't. I was over at his house one night, we'd had a couple of beers, you know, nothing too serious. Just a couple of guys hanging out. Well, I popped out for a smoke – Anne hates it when I smoke inside – when I start to hear yelling. Well, that don't sound like normal, so I head inside, and just as I'm rounding the corner, I catch a glimpse of Nolan with his hand still raised, and poor Anne on the floor. Nolan went back to watching TV like nothing had ever happened, and never saw me there. Well, after that night I took to checking in on Anne when Nolan wasn't around. Turns out, the bastard had been beating her for a couple of years, seemed to think that she made a nice punching bag after a few beers and a long day at work."

Throughout Nolan's story, Eric could feel Calleigh get tenser by the second. Using the cover of the table, he snuck his hand onto her leg, which seemed to calm her a bit. Detective Tripp, sensing the tension coming from his side of the table, took over the questioning.

"Alright, O'Keefe, so what happened next?"

"There was one night, about two weeks ago, I hear a knock on my door about 11:00. I go out, and Anne's standing there, looking half-dead. He was smart enough not to hit her on the face, or where anyone could see, but the rest of her… I just couldn't take it any more. I had been listening to the radio – you know that song, 'Goodbye Earl'? I got the beginnings of a plan. Now, you have to understand, this was not Anne's idea. It was totally me; I figured that if I was to shoot him while Anne was out, we couldn't be caught. I mean, I had no motive, as far as anyone knows, and she had a solid alibi. It was the perfect crime. I didn't realize that you could trace the bullet back to my gun though, that's crazy. I figured that if I disappeared for a while, it would just blow over, and Anne would be safe."

Detective Tripp, Eric, and Calleigh sat there somewhat in shock. Eric and Tripp had never even gotten a hint of abuse from Anne, and Calleigh just seemed to be in her own world.

Looking at all of them, O'Keefe spoke up again. "You can do whatever you want to me, I don't care. That bastard deserved what he got. Any person that beats his wife, and uses alcohol as an excuse, deserves to die."

That was the last straw for Calleigh. She rose from the table, managed a short 'excuse me', and disappeared out the door. Eric looked over at Tripp, and getting a nod from him, he turned to O'Keefe and said, "Thank you, Mr. O'Keefe. Detective Tripp here will help you with some necessary paperwork, and then will escort you to booking." With that, Eric turned and headed out after Calleigh.

* * *

AN: _Goodbye Earl_ is also not owned by me (obviously) and is performed by the Dixie Chicks. If you haven't heard it you really should, it's quite good.


	7. Chapter 7

**AN:** Uh, yeah. I have no excuse other than mass writer's block. None whatsoever… But here it is, and it's finished now, so no more waiting! And no, I did not spend the last year securing the rights to CSI: Miami, so they're still not mine. And special thanks to Joanne (she knows who she is) for helping me with the last section.

**Chapter Seven**

It took Eric longer than he thought it would to find Calleigh. He checked the usual places: the firearms lab, the locker room, the break room. When he didn't find her in those he got creative. He had just opened the door to the massive evidence vault when he saw movement behind some boxes. He made his way around the corner, and spotted Calleigh sitting on the ground, with her knees pulled up to her chest.

Silently he slid down the wall and sat next to her, once again pulling her upper body into his, lending her his support. "You okay?" Eric asked her.

"I'll be fine," Calleigh replied, looking at her hands, not quite trusting herself to look up at Eric. "It's just weird, you know. Listening to an outsider's viewpoint. When you're in that situation yourself, it's not the same. They don't really understand; they can't."

Looking at Calleigh, seeing how sad she was, Eric realized that he had never heard her talk about this part of her life. Every time the subject of childhood came up, Calleigh would always have one or two stories to tell, but when you tried to probe deeper, she would always change the subject. Now Eric could understand why. She was always the consummate professional at work, but Eric had to wonder… "Calleigh, your Dad, he never… Did he ever hurt you?" Eric asked the question, but he was a little bit scared of the answer.

Calleigh gave a short, mirthless laugh. "Not physically, no, but he never had to. He hit Mom, a couple of times I guess. But every time he'd drink, every time I had to go pick him up at the bar, it hurt. He knew that, too, he just couldn't help himself, I guess."

Eric let that piece of information sink in, relieved to discover that Calleigh hadn't been physically hurt, but still coming to terms with the full affect of the psychological pain that Kenwall Duquesne had caused his daughter. He had always guessed that there was something to Calleigh's childhood that she was hiding, or reluctant to share, but until the past week he had remained oblivious to the extent of the problem. But that was Calleigh, too proud and independent to admit to needing help, unless she was near the end of her very high tolerance. Eric realized that this week had, understandably, finally pushed her over the brink.

Realizing she probably didn't want to talk about it, but also knowing that she should, Eric asked his next question. "Have you gotten a hold of anyone back home yet?"

"Yeah," was Calleigh's one-word response.

Eric paused for a second, waiting to see if Calleigh was going to elaborate on her own. Clearly sensing that Calleigh felt she'd done enough sharing for the day, he pushed ahead. "Are you going back for the funeral?"

Calleigh was silent for so long that Eric was beginning to wonder if she had fallen asleep, or was just ignoring him. "I missed it," her quiet voice finally spoke up. "When they couldn't get a hold of me, the rest of the family just assumed that I didn't care anymore. That I must have felt my new life was more important than my old life. They wanted the whole thing to be done with as quickly as possible."

The bitterness present in her voice surprised Eric; she was usually so upbeat about everything, it wasn't a tone that he often heard from her. Not that in this situation she didn't deserve more than a little bit of bitterness. In fact, if he had been in her place, he would have resorted to that feeling long ago. However, none of that would really help right now, so he said the only thing that he could. "I'm sorry, Calleigh. I really am. You know I'm here for you. Always."

For the first time since he had found her in the evidence locker, Calleigh finally looked up at him. The hurt that was present in her eyes shocked him at first, but behind that he also saw gratitude. He was grateful for that; of all the things he had seen in his career as a CSI, the look on Calleigh's face right now definitely disturbed him far more than anything else, and he was glad for even that tiny glimmer of hope.

"I know, and thank you," was all she said. Was all she had to say. Eric just sat there with her in his arms, waiting for her to be ready in the silence that followed. It was a comforting silence, a soothing one.

"Calleigh," Eric softly called, careful not to break the calmness that seemed to settle upon her. She shifted in his arms, indicating that she was listening. "We care about you," he said.

Calleigh turned to face him once more, questioning.

"I mean, I know it's not the same, but… You have me. And Horatio, Ryan, and don't forget Tripp. And your father. Family are the people who care about you, Calleigh, and well, we care."

Calleigh didn't answer. She just settled further into Eric's arms, seemingly content just to stay there. That was all the answer that Eric needed.

END

And one last thank you to all who have read this, and an extra special thank you to those who reviewed! You are the reason that this actually got finished, finally. You guys rock!!!


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